


bed rest

by WattStalf



Series: Medical Malpractice OTP [28]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Shingen's Shennanigans, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:19:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/pseuds/WattStalf
Summary: I hardly think it's fair! Years of guarding myself, and I get sick so easily...you know, my son rarely gets sick? And, no offense to you, of course, but you never wear your mask and you hardly get sick either. Maybe it's just my age...





	

**Author's Note:**

> i guess this technically doesn't fit into my Medical Malpractice OTP continuity because,by this point, they've fucked Egor a few times, but I'm just gonna pretend that it makes sense anyway.
> 
> ANYWAY. I have a cold so I'm coping with it like I always do; by writing sickfics! Shingen is my victim of choice because he's unbearable enough when he's healthy, so sick Shingen is probably awful.

It starts because he can't say no to Emilia, and because he allows himself to be careless as a result. In fact, Shingen doesn't even hear the person cough when he gives in to his wife's demands to lift his mask just long enough to give her a kiss. Really, he should have known better than to do so in public, out on the streets, when he's supposed to be guarding himself so vigilantly, but for her, he is willing to back down on even something like that.

Unfortunately, his vigilance means that he has an incredibly weak immune system, and it isn't long before he wakes up with a nasty cold.

~X~

He's fortunate enough to live with Emilia, who is more than willing to look after him and play the role of his personal doctor, though, of course, there isn't much she can do for a simple cold. She stands over him, her lab coat thrown on over her pajamas, and frets about what can be done for him.

“You never get sick,” she says sadly.

Coughing weakly, her husband replies, “I hardly think it's fair! Years of guarding myself, and I get sick so easily...you know, my son _rarely_ gets sick? And, no offense to you, of course, but you never wear your mask and you hardly get sick either. Maybe it's just my age...”

Despite his intelligence, he doesn't seem to realize that the mask itself, and Emilia, for all  _her_ intelligence, doesn't seem to realize it either. Or, if she does, she doesn't say a word to him.

“If I die,” he says gravely, “don't fight over my estate. Split it with my son down the middle...no, wait, you take seventy percent and he can have thirty. I don't want that worthless excuse for a daughter-in-law getting her hands on too much of it...not if she won't even call me her father!”

“You're not going to die!” she cries. “You're not, you're not! I'm calling Shinra right now!”

Not realizing that her stepson won't be of any more use than she is, she hurries off and dials his number, saying, “Your father is gravely ill. Please be punctual in visiting. Medicine is welcome.”

It isn't long before Shinra has arrived, dragging Celty along with him because it was faster if she gave him a ride, and he hurries in, asking, “Dad, what's wrong?” He stops short when he sees his father, still wearing his goddamned gas mask even now, and it begins to dawn on him that things aren't quite so bad as Emilia made them sound, even before anyone speaks.

“A cold,” says Emilia sadly.

“A what?! Dad, please tell me she just doesn't know the right word. Please tell me you guys didn't actually call me over here because of a _cold_ ,” he says, looking to his father desperately.

“I'm afraid she's right, son. I've taken a terrible, terrible cold,” he replies.

“I'm leaving.”

“No!” Emilia cries. “We need a doctor!”

“But it's a cold,” says Shinra. “I mean, you're able to do just as much as I am, aren't you?”

“What if I require assistance? The father's life could be on the line.” She looks so serious to have said something so melodramatic.

“It's just a cold...”

“Listen to your mother,” Shingen scolds, but he's overcome by a sudden coughing fit that lasts a very long time. The guests can't help but be disgusted, considering it's all contained by his mask, and they wonder how he can stand something like that.

Emilia actually tears up at that and says, “See? A turn for the worse! As said, he is unwell!”

Sighing, Shinra steels himself and claps a hand on her shoulder and tries to look as sincere as possible as he speaks to his stepmother. “Listen, if anyone can take care of him like this, it's you. If you just do what you're supposed to do for a cold and pay close attention to him, he'll get better with no problem. But if I stay here, I'm just going to get in the way, you know?”

Slowly but surely, he begins to convince Emilia, and is just about to leave with Celty, who is visibly exasperated despite not having a part in any conversation, when Shingen calls out to his son. “I have a few things I need someone to pick up for me, but I can't have Emilia leaving me here alone. Do you think Celty could run out really quick?”

Shinra looks to her for a response, only to find that she's already typed it out. “ _I hope it kills him._ ” Though he knows she doesn't  _really_ mean it, he does know that she really won't be doing any favors or running any errands for his father, and the venom behind her words still surprises him.

“See?” mumbles Shingen to his wife. “Just like I said before. Worthless.”

“ _What did he just say?!_ ”

“Anyway,” Shinra quickly cuts in, “I wouldn't want to get in the way, so it's about time we head out!” And with that, he ushers Celty out the door before she and his father can get into a fight.

As soon as they're alone again, Shingen turns back to his wife and says, “Well, if we can't count on them to run errands for us, we still have one person to fall back on.”

~X~

Egor responds to the call about a “very important job”, even knowing that, since it came directly from Shingen, that it might not be very important at all. He doesn't have anything better to do, anyway, and the eccentric scientist has paid him well for even the smallest of tasks in the past. Not to mention the fact that, whether he'll admit it or not, he actually enjoys the company of the man, as well as his wife.

In fact, sometimes he thinks he enjoys it more than he should, even as their friend, but he'll  _certainly_ never admit to that. Not to himself, or to anyone else.

When he arrives, he is not all that surprised to find the both of them in their matching pajamas, Emilia with a lab coat over hers, and Shingen wearing his mask even while laying in bed. Before Emilia even tells him, Egor can already tell that the man is sick, and when he asks what, exactly, his job entails, he gets the expected response.

“I can't leave him alone, but he has things he needs,” she says. “Could you go shopping for us?”

Resisting the urge to laugh, he says, “Of course. What do you need me to get?”

“Emilia, get him the list I made,” says Shingen, and his wife hands Egor a sheet of paper with the usual sick-person items listed, as well as some extra things, including a very detailed variety of snacks and a list of recent movie releases to be on the lookout for.

“And, if you could, perhaps, be an angel and pick up a milkshake on your way back for Emilia? The poor dear has been running herself ragged for me, and I think she deserves it,” he finishes.

And so, Egor goes out on a shopping trip, locating the items as quickly as possible, before picking up Emilia's milkshake and returning to the couple. However, when he gets back, Shingen has more requests for him, and Egor finds himself running back out to pick up food from a favorite restaurant of theirs, and yet another movie that they had forgotten to put on their list but insisted that they have to watch first.

Finally, he makes it back for a second time, and is ready to be given his payment for his services. By now, Shingen's transferred himself to the couch, where he and Emilia are wrapped up in a blanket.

“Before you leave,” Shingen calls, “do you think you could stick around for a bit longer? We're already so comfortable over here, and it'd be great if you could start the movie. I'll factor that into your payment, of course!”

Sighing, Egor can't help but laugh to himself and do as they ask, and when they request he watch the movie and share in their dinner, he goes along with that as well. (Though, when Shingen later asks him if he can pick up Chicago style pizza from a restaurant that, as far as he knows, does not exist outside of Chicago, he does not dignify him with a response.) At some point, Emilia works the blanket up around his shoulder too, and that is how Egor ends up somewhat cuddled up with the two of them, watching movies.

“He looks a little out of place, doesn't he?” asks Shingen.

“He does! Next time we have the chance, we should try to order him a set of pajamas like ours,” replies Emilia. “Do you think they make them in his size?”

“Well, if they're a little short around the ankles, that doesn't matter, since he wouldn't ever be going out in them. Ooh, unless you think we could get a custom set?”

The two talk about these plans without asking Egor for his opinion, but he doesn't mind nearly as much as he thinks he should. If anything, he's just glad that Shingen is starting to feel better, and before he knows it, they've talked him into spending the night.

 


End file.
